


Lawful Wedded

by WritingQuill



Series: (30) Days of Johnlock [26]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Classical Music, Established Relationship, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Surprises, Wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-26
Updated: 2013-04-26
Packaged: 2017-12-09 14:33:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/775293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingQuill/pseuds/WritingQuill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day twenty-six: getting married</p><p>Sherlock just wants to sign the papers and be done with it. But John is a hopeless romantic and could never let that happen, so he plans a surprise wedding for Sherlock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lawful Wedded

John smiled amusedly as he was followed from the bedroom to the kitchen by a ranting Sherlock, who was waving around a printed article from _The Telegraph_.

‘… Not to mention the economic benefits, I mean, we could be saving a lot of money on taxes,’ he continued with his speech, which had started approximately thirty-four minutes ago, as Sherlock burst into the bathroom where John was brushing his teeth, then followed him into their bedroom where John went to change, and now as they were standing in the kitchen, while John prepared their breakfast. ‘But most importantly, there’s the fact that we’d automatically become each other’s next of kin, which is rather useful, given how much we end up in the hospital.’ Sherlock stopped talking suddenly, which took John a little by surprise. He turned to face his mad, mad detective with fondness. 

‘Are you done?’ John asked. Sherlock nodded expectantly. ‘Good. Sherlock… is this your crazy way of asking me to marry you?’ A faint blush appeared on Sherlock’s cheeks, which John took as a small victory. 

‘No, a civil partnership,’ Sherlock explained, still blushing ever-so-slightly and refusing to look John in the eye. John simply chuckled and put a hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder. 

‘Fine, and yes, you big, big lump.’ John smiled widely as he watched Sherlock’s expression change from stunned to a bit confused then happy. By the time their eyes met, they were both grinning. ‘But just because of the conveniences, right?’ John gave a wink. Sherlock cleared his throat. 

‘Yes. Yes, of course. Good. Well, I’ll take care of the paperwork and we should be done in a little over two weeks.’ 

‘Wait!’ John held Sherlock’s wrist, impeding him from storming out and going to the register office. ‘How about I do it?’ 

‘I’m sorry?’ 

‘Well, you’ve got all your experiments and that cold case with the dog in Sheffield. I’ve got nothing going on. How about you just stay here or go bother Molly, and I’ll handle the whole paperwork nonsense you find extremely boring?’ 

Sherlock pondered for a second, but ended up agreeing in the end. It would be much more convenient for him if John took care of the tedious bureaucracy. That way, he would just have to show up at the office on the day, say the blasted vows and be done with it. Though… No. He refused to allow himself to romanticise this. It was just signing papers, for God’s sake. 

And if he weren’t having an internal debate with himself, Sherlock might have noticed that wicked grin John gave as soon as he turned away with his tea. 

*

It was well known (at least to some people) that Sherlock Holmes was like a teacake. He had a dark, harsh exterior that promised nothing but sharpness. And yet on the inside he was all fluff and gooey-ness. Of course, the “some people” that knew that were really just Mrs Hudson and John Watson. And the former was giggling and clapping excitedly as the latter told her about his plans regarding the civil partnership. 

‘Oh, John, that is wonderful! Sherlock will be so surprised!’ she said. John grinned. They were sitting on her kitchen table, drinking tea and having non-metaphorical teacakes. 

‘I really do hope he is surprised. For the past three years, he has guessed all the presents I’ve given him…’ John admitted with a sigh. ‘Sometimes it’s really annoying living with a mad all-seeing genius.’

Mrs Hudson gave a chuckle and a pat on his hand. ‘That’s not really his fault is it, love?’ 

John smiled fondly. ‘No. And it’s brilliant, really. Just bloody hard to surprise him, that’s all. But this will.’ He gave a wink and Mrs Hudson started giggling again. 

A list of things to get done started to form in John’s mind, and he was happy to have Mrs Hudson to help. All he had to do now was avoid Sherlock’s eye and it would all work out. 

* 

**_Twenty days later_ **

Sherlock had all but forgotten about the whole civil partnership business. He was lying on the sofa, thinking position on, dressed in his pyjamas and silently organising his Mind Palace, when John burst into the room with a huge grin. 

‘Happy birthday!’ John said cheerily, pulling Sherlock out of his thoughts. 

‘It’s not my birthday,’ corrected Sherlock, brows knit in confusion.

‘Right, then, well, Happy Unbirthday!’

Sherlock rolled his eyes. ‘What?’ 

John sighed. ‘Look, never mind. It was a Lewis Caroll reference. Point is, I’ve got something for you.’ 

‘Oh?’ Sherlock sat and perked up a bit. Even though he always managed to guess John’s presents to him, they always ended up being amazing presents. And the fact that this was a surprise, out-of-the-blue gift was even more exciting. 

John smiled as he handed Sherlock an envelope. Sherlock took it and stared at John for a second, before opening the flap and taking it out, revealing two tickets to a Wagner concert at the National Theatre. In six hours. 

‘Tristan and Isolde? I thought this was sold out,’ said Sherlock, looking up to face John’s still-smiling face. 

‘Well, let’s say you’re not the one with connections,’ John gave him a wink, and Sherlock felt all warm inside. ‘Did you like it?’ Now he seemed nervous, and Sherlock was absolutely having none of that. He stood up and gathered John in his arms, hugging him tightly and pressing a kiss on his cheek. 

‘Yes, thank you. It’s… a surprise, actually.’ John looked so happy at that that Sherlock couldn’t stop himself from closing the small gap between them and gently pressing his lips to John’s. John responded gleefully, opening his mouth and making the kiss more passionate. Soon they were both lying on the sofa, John on top of Sherlock, tasting each other deliciously, tickets lying on the coffee table. 

*

Classical performances usually asked for a more formal attire, so Sherlock picked his best suit for the evening. Well, that and because John told him to. Something about going for a nice meal after. So, in his impeccable Spencer Hart, Sherlock stood in front of the mirror eyeing himself approvingly. John cleared his throat behind him and Sherlock turned. 

‘You look amazing,’ said John. He didn’t look bad himself. Actually, he looked simply edible, Sherlock thought, in that expensive suit Sherlock had made him buy the year before. It was a simple cut, dark grey, and it brought out John’s blue eyes. 

Sherlock smiled at John and made his way towards him. He cupped John’s face with his hands and gave him a small peck on the lips, then he pulled away towards the lounge. ‘You tease!’ he heard John laugh from the bedroom. Sherlock himself chuckled as he put his wallet, keys and phone in his pockets. 

‘Let’s go?’ asked John, putting on his coat. Sherlock nodded, Belstaff already on. They walked down the stairs and onto the street, and Sherlock manage to hail a cab in less than thirty seconds. 

‘National Theatre,’ John told the driver, sitting back next to Sherlock, taking his hand. ‘Wagner, huh?’ 

Sherlock nodded. ‘I read this particular performance is rather good. Of course, I much rather prefer gathering data myself. Though I’m unsure as to why you wanted to come, you are not a fan of Classical music unless I’m playing.’ 

John shrugged and simpered. ‘It makes you happy, and I love seeing you happy, so… No choice, really.’ 

Sherlock slid a bit closer and flung an arm around John’s shoulders, ‘Thank you…’ 

They were silent for the rest of the journey, enjoying each other’s company. When they arrived, John paid the cabbie and they left, walking towards the large building of the National Theatre, towards what would be the entrance to the Lyttelton theatre. It was a full house, and there were hundreds of people walking in. Sherlock and John checked their coats in, then were sent to their seats by the usher. Because of a slight bit of traffic right before Waterloo Bridge, they arrived just in time. 

The performance started and Sherlock was instantly mesmerised. From the first note, he had been hooked. The serene notes, the calm before the storm, he could feel it in the tips of his fingers. The the thumping sounds that shook him to his very core, the voices mingling and joining together, the actors interpreting the tragic story. 

When the last note of the third act was struck, the audience were on their feet, giving a standing ovation. Sherlock let out a breath, suddenly tired. It had been indeed magnificent, and he turned to say so to John, but what he found rendered him mute. John had the softest eyes in Sherlock, a small, fond smile brightening his features. Sherlock couldn’t say anything, suddenly overcome with love, so he simply put a hand over John’s, who seemed to wake up from his Sherlockland. 

‘It was great, wasn’t it?’ 

Sherlock nodded. ‘Brilliant.’ 

‘Good, good,’ John chuckled. ‘I’m happy you liked it. You know, I was watching you watch it, and I have never seen anything more beautiful.’ 

Sherlock’s throat was dry as he squeezed John’s hand and leant in for a small kiss. 

They stood up and John led the way. ‘Where are we going?’ Sherlock asked. 

‘Well,’ John began with that teasing tone of his that Sherlock secretly loved, ‘there’s another surprise for you.’ 

‘Surprise?’ 

They entered a lift and John pressed the top button. It went to The Deck. What could John possibly want to show him…? Oh. _Oh!_ No… That was… It was impossible. Sherlock stared at John incredulously as John smirked, staring at the doors of the lift. 

Sherlock had completely forgotten about the civil partnership. They had had four cases in the past two weeks, and he must have deleted it along with them. But that was… John was bad at keeping secrets, his face was an open book! How did he manage to hide a ceremony from Sherlock?

The doors opened and John walked them towards the main area of The Deck. It was a large room on top of the National Theatre with glass walls and a beautiful view of the Thames. And it was currently tastefully decorated perfectly to Sherlock’s tastes, a few flowers because it was a ceremony of union and a string quartet playing Vivaldi in one corner. Not a lot of people were present, because of course John knew Sherlock would want to be present for this. Mycroft was there, next to Mummy, who was dressed impeccably as always, and sported the biggest smile Sherlock had ever seen in her. Mrs Hudson was already dabbing her eyes with her handkerchief, sniffling at the sight of them entering the room, and so was Angelo. Lestrade was also there, standing next to Molly, who smiled widely at them, and had her arm linked with a tall, blonde man wearing a reasonably nice suit and round glasses, who was smiling down at her. Sherlock also noticed Harriet, who looked happy and sober (thankfully), next to Clara, with whom she had patched things up a few years ago, to John’s happiness. And finally, at the end of the room, standing before a small round table covered in a midnight blue silk table towel, was the registrar, a tall, caramel-skinned woman with bright blue eyes and a gentle smile — and who, Sherlock learnt afterwards, was called Susan. Leading towards it there was a long dark blue carpet, covered in white petals, around which the guests were gathered. 

Sherlock observed all that in less than ten seconds. He turned to John in shock. That had indeed been a surprise. 

‘John…’ 

‘I know you only wanted to get it over with and sign the papers, but…’ 

‘No! No, I… This is…’ Sherlock was speechless. John was the only person who could render him speechless, and Sherlock loved him even more for that. 

’Shall we get married, then?’ John asked with a dashing smile. Sherlock’s knees felt like jelly, but he nodded, and they walked towards the registrar looking like the happiest people on Earth. 

Their guests were grinning madly. Some of them crying even harder as they walked past them. They were saying things, shaking his hand, but Sherlock wasn’t listening. All he could pay attention to was John’s hand in his and the idea that in a few minutes he’d be married to John. Well, they’d be civil partners, but it was essentially the same thing, and Sherlock couldn’t keep that stupid goofy smile off his face.

The ceremony began, and the registrar smiled at them as she told them what to say. John went first, 

‘I do solemnly declare that I know not of any lawful impediment why I, John Watson may not be joined in matrimony to Sherlock Holmes. I call upon these persons here present to witness that I, John, do take thee, Sherlock, to be by lawful wedded husband,’ he repeated after the registrar. Sherlock said the same, and they exchanged the rings that John had brought. Then Mrs Hudson and Mycroft signed as their witnesses, and they were married. United. Whatever. 

All Sherlock knew was that the moment Susan declared them husband-and-husband, he pulled John close, crashing their mouths together in a passionate, loving kiss, earning a round of applause from their guests, and even some whistles. 

Sherlock rested his head against John’s when they parted, and smiled even wider than he had before. 

‘I love you, John.’ 

John had tears in his eyes, and he tried to blink them away as he said, ‘I love you, too, Sherlock.’

**Author's Note:**

> First up, I made up the Wagner concert at the National Theatre. It's all because I really like Wagner, and Tristan and Isolde was on here at the Usher Hall last year, but I couldn't make it -- which I still regret. But, anyway, I took some liberties with that, just because I needed the story to be set at the National Theatre. 
> 
> Second, The Deck is beautiful, it's right at the top of the National, and it's got the most amazing view of London. Also, it's a great venue for weddings and stuff, so that was a cool discovery! 
> 
> Lastly, I would like to thank you for reading this, you are totally awesome. Remember that I adore your comments, like, more than life. 
> 
> Cheers x


End file.
